


Big Brother To Little Bird

by Abbyromana



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Batman, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding, Team Bonding, Teen Titans References, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbyromana/pseuds/Abbyromana
Summary: Some times a message can mean a lot to the one receiving it.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Big Brother To Little Bird

**Author's Note:**

> I am in the process of deleting my old LJ account, so I'm trying to transfer as much of my old writing over here, so please forgive me if the writing is rough and poor quality. I plan to update these stories and complete these works.
> 
> Plenty more to come. Updates ahead.

Damian puzzled over this neatly organized surroundings.

Sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor of the small bedroom in Titan Tower, he glared down at the sprawled items on the ground. An array of Drake’s memorabilia and junk surrounded him. Rifling though it all, he had picked his way through the former boy wonder’s closet, dresser draws, bedding, computer, and hiding spots. Nothing. There was nothing of value or particular interest to Damian. Even the computer and external hard drives were full of drivel filled notes and reports, and too many ridiculous candid photos of his Titan friends, Brown, Grayson, and both Grayson and Todd as Robin.

“Tt,” scoffed Damian, silently fuming. “Always knew you were a sentimental fool, Drake.”

Since this would be his room for as long as Grayson continued this pointless charade, Damian more than considered throwing all of Drake’s junk into the trash. Of course, Damian was sure Drake’s former teammates would protest. He was in no mood to deal with their pathetic counter-attacks or their annoying protests. It was hard enough to put up with their presence and Beast Boy's stench. If he was really going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, he would have to appease them… for the time being.

Still, Damian wanted it out of his way. He wasn’t Drake. He couldn’t live in this Drake created decor and memories.

Thus, he piled up the stuff and began stuffing it all into the cramped closet. As he put in the third armload, he felt the vibration for the first time. It started at his side, shivering up into his stomach and into his chest.

Damian froze for a moment, slightly confused. Perhaps more worried than anything.

That’s when an overly cheerful tune began to play.

_Little bird, little bird fly through my window. // Little bird, little bird fly through my window._

The sound paused for a moment. Only Damian’s slightly panicked breathing filled the silence. Then it began again:

_Little bird, little bird fly through my window. // Little bird, little bird fly through my window._

Listening intently, he was sure it was coming from his utility belt. He scrambled to find its source. It took him a good few seconds to find the pouch. It was one that usually held some of his slender, throwing daggers. Right now, a simple cellphone lay within.

_Little bird, little bird fly through my window. // Little bird, little bird fly through my window._

As the sound played again, Damian flipped open the cell phone. There on the small screen it showed:

Message from ‘Big Brother’ to ‘Little Bird’.

A sneer formed on Damian’s face as his fist tightened around the phone. A part of him wanted to throw the phone as hard possible against the wall. He hoped it would shatter and be silenced forever. Another, far more nagging part of him couldn’t help the curiosity that entered his mind. He wanted to know why Grayson had put the phone in his belt in the first place, why he had left a message instead of just calling him, and what Grayson wanted now.

Curiosity won out in the end. Hitting the green button, he lifted the phone to his ear and listened.

“Good Evening, Damian,” Grayson said in a far less Batman sounding voice. The unmistakable roar of the batplane engines adjusting altitude could be heard in the background. “Or Good Morning, depending on when you decide to check this.”

“Tt.” Damian commented, despite knowing no one would hear him.

“And I know, you are probably still fuming and pouting right now,” Grayson continued.

Damian bit his lip, choosing to just roll his eyes instead of muttering under his breath.

“…But I hope given time, you’ll change your mind. You’ll come to understand, as I said to you, this isn’t a punishment. It’s not. Really! It’s a new opportunity for you. If you want, see it as another lesson that you’ll have to master, for better or worse.” There was a pause filled with a muttered, “Hopefully for the best.” Grayson drew a very long breath.

Damian could picture Grayson closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And I know you like challenges. This one will just be a bit harder than beating up thugs and villians, but I know you can do it. And you’ll get so much from this experience,” Dick continued. “These people are friends of Tim's. They can be your friends, too, if you rise to the challenge of…” He paused, sounding as if struggling for the right words. “Well, socializing, connecting, making friends.”

A sneer formed on Damian’s face.

“Yes. I know you’re probably sneering at the thought, but they can teach you much. If you just listen to them. Listen and communicate.” Another pause was filled with sounds of the batplane being piloted. “These aren’t heroes… people like you’ve met before. At least they’re not necessarily like those you’ve met in Gotham. You’ll have to be on your best behavior. I know. You’ll have to adapt like Tim and I both did. But they are good people with new and enriching perspectives and backgrounds. Maybe some of them might be people you feel like you can talk to, connect with on some level. Much like Tim and I did when we were members of the Titans.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot, Grayson. Why would I…?”

“But,” Dick seemed to interrupt Damian’s retort, “I know being away from home, from family isn’t easy. It can be scary, intimidating, and unnerving.”

Damain glared at the phone.

“Yes, you heard me right, Damian. Scary. That’s how I felt the first time I spent time away from Gotham without Bruce. The friends I made there helped, but so did the surprise delivery box of Alfred’s chocolate chip cookies.” Dick chuckled very loudly. “Of which most of them Wally ate before I could blink. Only Donna grabbing him by the scruff of his neck stopped him before all of them were gone in a flash.” There was a loud chuckle. “Man, I can’t tell you how hilarious it was…”

A force cough interrupted his talking. There was yet another brief pause as Dick brought his laughter under control.

“The point being this is your chocolate chip cookies, if you will. I had Oracle create this special phone for you. While you can contact me, if you need help or just want to talk, it’s also a way to give you that connection back to home. It will be your ear back to Gotham, so you won’t feel left out. You are part of the batfamily.”

The engine of the batplane roared as the plane adjusted altitude again. Another voice unfamiliar to Damian filled the gap of silence. Dick’s voice and the new voice were partially muffled by the roar for a few moments. Damian strained his ears to hear, but he couldn’t make anything specific out from the conversation.

“Until tomorrow then,” said Dick over the sound of hitting switches. “Well, I plan to leave you a message tomorrow, but that will depend on… something. So… take care, Damian. Have a good time. Be good. And listen to the others.”

As the message beeped to tell Damian that the message was over, he found himself seated and reclined on the bed. The grinning image of Nightwing and Tim’s Robin beamed on the desk across from him.

A lump chocked in his throat. He forced himself to swallow down the annoyance. After a moment more, he tossed the phone on the bedside table and turned over in bed. “Tt. Sentimental fool.”

_To be continued…_


End file.
